No, Kids, This Isn’t “Normal”

I’ve been MIA. I’m not even going to pretend to try to catch you up. Last I left my blog I was struggling with postpardom depression, so let’s just leave it that some days I still am, it’s been a long road, and I’m appreciating modern science and medical advances. 

Now, on to my topic of discussion today: a future note to my children that no, the life they are living is not “normal” and they have no idea how lucky they are. 

We have been doing some traveling. Angel and I always prioritized travel so there’s no real shock with that statement. But reciently, Lucas is old enough to sort of realize that we go to these cool places, but he has no idea that this isn’t a “normal” thing. Our kids sleep in hotels without skipping a beat 

and fly on airplanes without realizing that some adults only dream about flying. 

Our kids play in airports quietly and with each other because they know not to disturb those around us

They don’t realize that this is a life of luxury that Mom and Dad have sacrificed and prioritized for. They have no idea that spending 6 days in Maui isn’t something that everyone does every year

If they don’t realize all of this, than they certainly don’t realize that it’s been a dream of ours to go to Australia before they were ever a dream of ours. They don’t understand that it’s a big deal to spend 20 days in Sydney followed by 6 in Auckland, New Zealand. They don’t know, but they’re doing it anyway. 

I often get comments about how hard it must be to raise a family without family around to help. I respond with the same dumb stare that parents of multiples give when they are told how hard parenting twins must be. We do it because we don’t have a choice. I don’t have the option to call my Mom and drop my kids off on the way to the grocery store every week, so they have to go with me and learn how to behave. It’s not easy for us to call family to come spend a month with our Tiny Humans while we go on a trip of a lifetime, so we adapt our plans and take them with us. I digress, but I would like to think that my reward for having to do this on our own is having kids who aren’t assholes who the rest of you have to deal with. 

But my point in this rant is this: I had a lucky childhood that I didn’t realize at the time exactly how rare it was. And here I am, passing the torch on to a new generation and hoping that one day they will realize how cool their parents must have been to spend a month in Australia and take them with. 

…because they don’t understand yet. 
Cheers from down under, mates! This month I’m coming in strong with photo bombs and word vomit so that my kids may look back on day and think “Damn, our parents were pretty cool for doing that for us.”

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